April 25th, 2009.

my day started extremely early: we were up at 5am to attend the Anzac Day 6am dawn service at the Cenotaph here in town. this was our very first time ever attending the ceremony, and I'm so glad we went. there was something so profoundly moving about standing amongst a crowd of at least two hundred people under a pre-dawn sky still studded with a handful of stars, all of us gathered together to remember those who gave their lives in battle so many years ago. the chill didn't matter, the lack of breakfast in our bellies didn't matter: all that mattered was that we were here. that we remembered.

we stood together in the last moments of night, watching it bleed slowly into a brand-new day, listening to the names of those who could not be with us, our heads bowed and our lips moving to the Lord's Prayer. then came the haunting, pure notes of the Last Post, and finally, the dedication.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

the air was thick with memory, with a sense of debt and gratitude to the ghosts of the past that surrounded us. I've never been in a crowd so silent, so hushed, so breath-takingly reverent.

afterward, we drove to the waterfront and watched as the sun rose, for a moment staining the ocean blood-red, as if the earth itself was spilling all her sorrows into the sea.



Lest we forget.

Anzac Day links: [1] & [2]